


Only For My Baby to Hear

by duplicity



Series: Voldemort's Assassin Hotline [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Non-Sexual Intimacy, POV Alternating, Possessive Tom Riddle, Praise Kink, Sleepy Cuddles, tom is like a giant golden retriever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 00:20:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29126364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duplicity/pseuds/duplicity
Summary: This was it. This was Hermione Granger's villain origin story. She was going to become a murderer. She was going to murder her friend Harry Potter and his annoying boyfriend in cold blood. Her brilliant mind and vast array of talents were going to be wasted in prison. It was a shame, really, because it would not have needed to happen if she had just been able to get one good night's sleep.Or:After being asked to keep the noise down, Tom findsotherways to enjoy Harry's company in private.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle | Voldemort, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Series: Voldemort's Assassin Hotline [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2132007
Comments: 43
Kudos: 251





	Only For My Baby to Hear

**Author's Note:**

> this short story takes place months after part one, ['On the Hotline'](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29059176).
> 
> title once again is taken from the song 'hotline' by the sylvers. the gift that keeps on giving.
> 
> thank u to Coral for giving me the ending to this one 

Hermione shut the door to the motel room after bidding Harry and Tom good night. Ron was already in the room, struggling to change into his pyjamas while he balanced his mobile in his one hand and tugged at a pair of sleep trousers with the other.

“Harry said they’d try to keep it down,” she informed him.

“Great,” Ron said distractedly. He shut the screen of his phone off and placed it on the side table, then finished tugging his right foot through the other leg of his trousers. “Hopefully they do that.”

“Dressing would go much faster if you weren’t so distracted, you know.”

“I know.” Ron gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I’ve just been reading through all these really interesting articles, see?” He reached for his phone, switched the screen on, and held it up to her.

**[[ Local IKEA Swallows A Man Whole. More News At Eleven. ]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25959697)   
**

“That,” Hermione said, “is obviously clickbait.”

“But it’s interesting, isn’t it? It doesn't have to be real to be interesting.”

“I suppose.” Hermione looked back at the phone screen. There was a badly photoshopped image of an IKEA in the midst of a nuclear explosion. “Anyway, I’m going to wash for bed.”

“Okay.” Ron gave her cheek a kiss. “I’ll just be reading this ‘till you get back.”

Hermione went into the bathroom. She flossed first, then brushed her teeth for two minutes using a fluoride toothpaste. After that, she washed her face carefully with a damp cloth, then applied aloe vera gel all over to help moisturize. When she was done, she went back into the bedroom.

Ron was lounging on the bed, phone in hand. He looked up as she came in. “Quiet so far,” he said cheerfully.

“That’s a relief. You don’t want to know how many times I had to repeat the words ‘thin walls’ before I got through to them.” Hermione knelt to pull her luggage out from under the bed. She unzipped it, then retrieved the nightgown she’d folded neatly and left on top of the rest of her clothes.

“They’re having a good time,” Ron said amicably.

“Just because _you_ can sleep through a thunderstorm doesn’t mean the rest of us can.” Hermione started to strip off her clothes. From the corner of her eye, she could see Ron was watching her.

“Right, but so long as they’re not doing it directly next to us, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Of course it doesn’t!” Hermione protested, straightening up. “I’m not a prude.”

“I never said you were!” Ron shook his head. “Just… checking.”

“You are an honest-to-god hypocrite,” she told him. “Are you going to sleep?”

“Nah, I’m going to stay up a little longer.”

“Alright.” Hermione pulled her nightgown on, then unhooked her bra and placed it into her suitcase. Once the suitcase was shut and pushed back into its proper place under the bed, Hermione got to her feet.

Ron pulled back the sheets and blankets so she could climb in. On the side table to her right was her weighted, rose-gold eye mask for sleeping. Hermione reached for it and tugged it onto her head.

“Good night,” she said expectantly. 

Ron put his phone down on the bed and turned his head so they could kiss good night. “Sweet dreams,” he said, smiling.

Hermione smiled back, then switched off the lamp. Ron did the same. He would continue to read until he decided to go to bed, but the light would be blocked out by her sleep mask. It was a nightly routine that worked for them. Hermione liked knowing that two people as different as them could get along after putting effort into it.

She stifled a yawn as she laid down onto the bed, then used both hands to pull her mask on over her eyes. Everything was blessedly dark and peaceful. She would finally be getting a good night’s rest without Harry’s absurdly active sex life interrupting it.

For a while, there was nothing but the occasional shuffle from Ron’s side of the bed. Then Hermione could hear the thump and creak of the bed on the other side of the wall. She was tired and about to fall asleep, but the knowledge that Tom and Harry were _also_ about to go to bed was setting off alarm bells in her head.

She lay there, wide awake and waiting to see what they would do. 

There was another muffled thump followed by the distinct sound of Tom’s voice filtering through the wall.

_“—here, Harry.”_

Hermione took a deep, calming breath. She had spoken to them already. Everything was going to be fine.

* * *

“Come here, Harry.”

Harry eyed his boyfriend with suspicion. Sure, Tom _looked_ innocent with his wide eyes and baggy sweatshirt stolen from Harry’s suitcase, but Harry had not forgotten last night. Or the night before. Or the night before that.

Most of all, Harry had _not_ forgotten the thinly-veiled lecture Hermione had given him on the importance of proper sleep.

“No funny business,” Harry said pointedly, but he crawled onto the bed and into Tom’s arms.

Tom snuggled right in, tucking Harry against his chest and propping his chin atop Harry’s head. “It’s more comfortable like this,” he promised. 

Being the little spoon was nice, but Harry could not shake his wariness. Tom had to have ulterior motives with this. It was unlike him to not have ulterior motives.

Tom hummed, rubbing his hand over Harry’s forearm. Harry squirmed and coughed.

“Shh,” said Tom. “Just relax.”

Harry really didn’t want Hermione to be mad at him. Hermione could be very mean when she was mad.

Tom planted a tiny kiss to the crown of Harry’s head. Harry waited to see if there would be more kissing, but it seemed Tom was going to behave tonight. For once.

“You have a bit of fuzz in your hair. Let me take it out.”

Harry stirred and tried to sit up, only Tom was holding him in place. “What? Where?”

“Hold still, please…”

Harry held still and felt Tom’s fingers run over his head. Tom was very gentle, his fingertips scritching lightly across Harry’s scalp. Harry relaxed at the touch, feeling warm all over.

“Does that feel good, darling?” Tom asked. He was using his customer service voice, Harry thought distractedly. That on its own was a warning sign—

The world tilted. Or rather, Harry tilted as Tom shifted them into a different position. Harry’s head and neck were now cradled on Tom’s lap, his shoulders partially propped up against Tom’s thigh. 

“Hey!” Harry protested.

“Shhh, don’t worry. We won’t break your little promise to Hermione.”

Harry had a lot of doubts about that, but as Tom danced dexterous fingertips across his scalp, he knew he would soon be a goner.

“There,” Tom said lightly. “Doesn’t that feel nice? Not everything has to be sexual.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled reluctantly. “Feels nice.”

Tom continued to scratch and rub while Harry slowly melted into a giant puddle of warmth and good vibes. His face and body were pleasantly warm while he lay there in the darkness.

“You look comfortable, sweetheart. Do you feel comfortable?” Tom hummed softly as his hand threaded through Harry’s messy hair, brushing through the curls. 

Harry wasn’t doing anything other than falling asleep while sprawled across Tom’s lap, but now that Tom was talking to him, he felt a strong need to pay attention. “Hmmm. Yeah.”

“You’re doing so well for me,” Tom crooned. “Your hair is soft to the touch. Like strands of silk.”

“Tom,” he protested. They had a rule about sweet talking.

“Darling, don’t be ridiculous.” Tom bent his head and pressed a soft kiss to Harry’s forehead. “You deserve all the praise I have to offer.”

The fuzzy warm feelings were growing stronger. Heat was rising to his face, flushing his cheeks, but Harry no longer had the strength to protest Tom’s actions. His entire body felt like it was suspended in midair, floating away on a cloud.

“No argument?” Tom asked. Harry could hear the smile in his voice. “Perhaps I should do this more often. Would you like that? I’d keep you close to me so I could hold you like this all day…”

Harry couldn’t seem to open his mouth to respond. His brain was betraying him. He had fallen prey to Tom’s tender ministrations and honeyed words. At this rate, there would never be any tangles in his hair ever again.

Long minutes passed while Harry lay there at Tom’s mercy. If nothing else happened, he would be drifting into unconsciousness very soon. Harry had a suspicion that his dreams would feature the explicit activities that Tom had been forbidden from engaging in.

“Are you feeling sleepy yet, lovely?” Tom asked. “Enjoying yourself? You should see how beautiful you are, spread across my lap.”

* * *

_“—ying yourself? You should——beautiful———spread across——”_

Hermione let out a low moan of despair and clapped her hands over her ears. 

“They’re not going to stop,” Ron said to her. “Granted, they’re a lot quieter than they were yesterday. But I don’t think they’re going to be finished any time soon.”

Hermione peeled her eye mask off and sat up. She was filled with righteous anger and she was going to use it. “I’m going to bang on their door until they get the message.”

Even in the darkness, she could tell Ron’s face had paled. “Is that really a good idea?”

“I _warned_ them,” Hermione said viciously as she sat up and stuffed her feet into her shoes. “And now they will pay the price for their hubris.”

“Okay. We can go to bed when you come back?” Ron asked hopefully.

“Yes,” she promised. “Yes, we will. And it will be _quiet_ while we do so.”

* * *

Tom traced Harry’s jawline with the pad of his finger. “So pretty,” Tom said in an undertone, almost like he was talking to himself. Then he kissed the tip of Harry’s nose, though Harry had no idea how he was able to do that with such accuracy in the dark.

Slowly, Tom’s hands worked downwards, moving away from the scalp, massaging gently all the while. Harry was, as predicted, too far gone to kick up a fuss. Instead, he let out an embarrassing noise as Tom kneaded out a particularly tense spot on the left side of his neck.

“That’s it,” Tom encouraged, sounding breathless. “Let me hear you.”

That was a comment Harry had not expected to hear in this context. It was sending mixed signals to his head and his libido. On one hand, they were currently cuddling on the bed while fully clothed. On the other hand, those particular words had a number of very specific memories attached to them.

“Tom, you better not—” 

Tom pecked him on the lips to quiet him. Harry scrunched his face up into a scowl, but found he couldn’t stay mad while Tom was doting on him.

“None of that,” Tom said patiently. “We may not be sleeping together tonight, but everything else is permissible, is it not?”

“We should go to bed.” His voice sounded sleepy and slurred. Tom’s presence was like a goddamn drug in his system.

Tom pet his hair a bit and made a thoughtful sound. “You can go to bed, sweetheart. Don’t let me keep you.” He ran a hand over Harry’s collarbones, a touch which tickled. Harry twitched and squirmed away from Tom’s hand, nearly knocking his head against the side table.

“Careful,” Tom warned. His other hand cupped back of Harry’s head. “I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Harry made himself sit up, his face narrowly avoiding a collision with Tom’s. He was definitely not in the right state of mind for this.

“Lie back down, please,” Tom said petulantly. “I wasn’t finished. I’ll mind your head, darling. You don’t have to worry about that.” 

Harry leant in and gave Tom a very long kiss with lots of tongue. It was a thorough kiss that resulted in a great deal of noise from both parties involved. When Harry was done, Tom was breathing loudly, his hands bunched tightly in the fabric of Harry’s t-shirt.

“Good night,” Harry said, trying to be firm. He placed one last kiss on Tom’s cheek, then went to lie back down, intending to tug Tom over him like a blanket.

After a pause, Tom curled up behind him and draped an arm over Harry’s waist. They snuggled together, two puzzle pieces in the same bed. Harry was ready to close his eyes and go to sleep when the door opposite opened, flooding the room with light.

* * *

Hermione twisted the doorknob on instinct and was completely shocked when the door gave and swung open. She had been prepared to knock her fists on the door until one of them came to answer it. As her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the motel room, she could make out two figures on the bed.

“I told you both to keep it _down!”_ Hermione said angrily, only to stop dead in her tracks as the sight of Harry and Tom in the bed, fully clothed and cuddled together, properly registered in her brain.

“Hermione?” asked Harry blearily. He sat up, and Hermione noted that his hair looked… oddly put-together considering he was about to go to bed. It certainly didn’t looked like it had been mussed up by sex.

“Weren’t the two of you—I heard you both—” Hermione spluttered. “Why aren’t you having sex?”

“You told us not to,” Tom said pointedly, glaring at her.

“Then why—the things you were saying! Those were not _appropriate_ things!”

Harry had already laid back down and rolled over so he could bury his face against Tom’s chest. “G’night, Hermione.”

Hermione balked at them. “I don’t believe it,” she said. Her gaze narrowed on Tom. “I heard you speaking through the wall.”

Tom continued to glare at her. “Harry is trying to sleep.” 

The staring contest stretched on for a few more seconds. “Fine. Sleeping better be all you’re doing,” she threatened. “I don’t want to hear a single sound through the wall until the morning.”

“Morning?” Tom asked, raising a brow.

“No, that doesn’t mean—ugh. Nevermind. Fine. Riddle, do whatever it is you’d like to do in the morning.” She folded her arms across her chest and shot him a disgusted look. “The next time we stay anywhere together, Ron and I will be staying in a room on a _different_ floor, and I’ll be forwarding _you_ the bill for it.”

“See that you do that, Granger. And shut the door on your way out.”

Hermione closed the door strictly louder than was necessary, but she felt it was deserved given what had happened. At least now she could tell Ron that they would be able to sleep.

* * *

Darkness and blessed silence fell upon the room. Harry lifted his face away from Tom’s chest. “You didn’t lock the door,” he said flatly.

Tom’s hand settled on the back of his neck. “Oh? I must have forgotten.”

“You don’t—” Harry stifled a huge yawn. “You don’t _forget_ to lock the door. You’re the most paranoid bastard I’ve ever met, and I told you about Professor Moody. If I can’t trust _you_ with safety, I can’t trust anyone.”

“You know they say it isn’t healthy in a relationship to put your partner on a pedestal.”

“As if you don’t enjoy every minute of it.”

Tom pressed a kiss to the side of his head. “Good night, Harry.”

Harry sighed and flopped back down on top of his boyfriend. “Good night, Tom.”

* * *

SEVERAL MONTHS LATER.

* * *

Hermione dragged her luggage through the open door and into the hotel room. They were spending a weekend at a ski lodge with Harry and Tom, and they had once again rented two rooms. 

“Our own room at last,” Hermione said triumphantly. “One _entire_ floor away from those two horny teenagers.”

Ron strolled in and dropped his bag on top of the bed. “It’s a nice room. You said Tom paid for this? How’s he even afford that on his salary?”

“It’s the least he can do, Ron.” Hermione lay her luggage out at the foot of the bed and opened it up so she could retrieve her toiletries.

“Can’t argue with that. Did you want to wash up first?”

It was already rather late. Hermione was more than ready to pass out for a solid eight hours. “Yes, if you don’t mind.”

“Go ahead. I can wait.”

So Hermione went through her usual nightly routine. Floss, brush, wash face, and moisturize. Then she changed into her nightgown and got into bed while Ron used the bathroom. She switched off the lamp on her side of the bed and pulled her eye mask on.

Silence, and then—

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Those sounds were clearly coming from the floor above. The floor above, which was supposed to be where Harry and Tom were lodging. Now, Hermione had never been one to put stock into wild guesses, but she was certain that the fates were laughing at her just as much as she was certain that Harry and Tom had _somehow_ managed to book the room directly above her and Ron’s.

Hermione sat up and tugged her weighted, rose-gold eye mask off.

Ron came back into the bedroom, toothbrush dangling from his mouth. He pointed at the ceiling and raised a questioning brow. Hermione gritted her teeth and nodded. Seeing the look on her face, Ron backed up into the bathroom and shut the door. Ignorance was truly bliss.

_Thump. Thump._

Hermione glared in the direction of the ceiling.

This was it. This was her villain origin story. She was going to become a murderer. She was going to murder her friend Harry Potter and his annoying boyfriend in cold blood. Her brilliant mind and vast array of talents were going to be wasted in prison. It was a shame, really, because it would not have needed to happen if she had just been able to get _one_ good night's sleep.

**END.**

**Author's Note:**

> find me & my writing updates on tumblr [here](https://duplicitywrites.tumblr.com)!
> 
> feel free to join my personal discord server for my writing (and where i livewrite things sometimes) [here](https://discord.gg/BJRP4A5)!


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